Some Things Will Never Change
by emilycmbl
Summary: Edward wasn't exactly what you'd call an 'ordinary' boy. His father's work never stayed in the same place twice; he didn't have any friends. He never wanted anything more from his father than his respect and personal space. But what made Ed realise that he was indeed, truly, different, was when his father revealed the identity of his estranged mother...
1. Chapter 1

A/N: so, this is my first published work on this site, so please excuse/notify me of any problems/mistakes/etc. this story is based on some headcanons i had in the back of my mind a while ago, and i decided to write them all down together. its just your average pjo!fma au. enjoy!

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><p><strong>Al's POV<strong>

I felt uncomfortable, to say the least. The kid sleeping next to me was tossing and turning, filling the room with soft short pants and calling out some girl's name.

He was kicking up his itchy covers, refusing to lay still on the hard infirmary cot as it creaked against his weight. Small trickles of sweat appeared on his tanned features, embedding themselves in his messy golden locks and the fabric of his cotton shirt. I could hear him muttering apologies. His soft voice breaking and slipping as he repeatedly told his fallen friends, "I'm so sorry." As he struggled on in his nightmare, worry and fear etched completely across his face, the only thing I could bring myself to think was, 'Thank the gods it's not a wet dream.'

I looked around the infirmary as I sat in my bed, glancing at other sleeping patients and out the window to the navy blue night sky. Though I looked elsewhere, my mind was cluttered with thoughts of the boy next to me: 'Should I not do anything? Should I wake him up? What would he do if I woke him up? What is he dreaming about? Where's he from? How long has he been here? Seriously though, should I wake him up or not?'

I decided against it; not knowing how or if he would react if I tried to wake him. So I waited. I waited until his nightmare was over, waited until shy lights of pink seeped into the sky. Waited until the infirmary was stirring again, until the bugs came out in the summer day, until his body had decreed it time for him to wake up.

Finally, at about 11AM, his eyes fluttered open, revealing a strange gold colour - as if the sunset had been trapped in his irises. He immediately clasped them shut again, groaning as he brought his left hand to his face, pulling it up so that his unruly bangs would uncover his eyes and letting it rest on the pillow, above his head. He let out a deep sigh and opened his eyes once again to look at the infirmary ceiling.

Now, try to understand that I would've, and had the complete functioning ability to, start a smart and coherent conversation with this guy. But of course, as you can probably begin tell, that was not the case. For I had only just noticed something that, looking back on it, should've seemed pretty goddamn obvious.

"You-Your right arm is missing!"

As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I instantly regretted it.

The kid sat up, and even though he looked mildly confused, still stared at me and came back with a sarcastic comment: "Oh, really? I hadn't noticed."

"Sorry," I winced. "I didn't try - I mean - I didn't actually mean to...um... I uh..." I trailed off as I got flustered, rubbing the back of my neck with my hand and staring at my bed. "Ugh... Can I start again?" I asked as I looked back at him, putting on what I had hoped to be an apologetic smile but probably came out as a lopsided one. "I'm Alphonse," I offered, sticking out my left hand for him to shake. "Sorry about, you know, stating the obvious..."

He looked between me and my hand for a few seconds, most likely deciding whether he should actually attempt to talk to me or not. He took it after a couple more seconds, however reluctantly.

"Ed."

I smiled, glad that I had gotten a name out of him. I opened my mouth to try and start up a conversation before I dove in accusing him of his nightmare, but he beat me to it before I could say anything.

"Where are we?" He asked, looking around at numerous patients.

I blinked, thrown off by his question. "Um, the infirmary," I told him, but after still receiving a confused look I added: "...At a...camp."

"A camp?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Camp... Half-Blood, I think." I sighed, "There's probably a better word for that. Uh, I think it means half-bloods as in...demigods."

"Demigods?" He scoffed. "You mean children of gods, demigods?"

I nodded slowly.

Ed rolled his eyes, "Gimme a break."

Yeah, I wasn't too sure either.

"Well, I'm guessing that it's something like-"

"Oh, you're awake!" An unfamiliar voice interrupted my explanation.

I turned and saw a young girl, at least a year or two older than me, walking towards us. She had jet black hair that was pulled into a bun with a short fringe and bangs that bordered her face. Over a bright orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD t-shirt, she was wearing a black hoodie (how could she be wearing that in summer?) and fingerless black gloves covered her hands, in which she was holding a tray. It held a plate of something that I couldn't see with a tall glass of what appeared to be something similar to apple juice, which had a straw sitting in it that swayed from side to side.

She sat down on the chair between Ed's bed and the next, setting the tray down on her lap.

"Drink this," she ordered, handing Ed the glass of pseudo-apple juice.

"O-Okay," he said, taking the drink from her. "What is it?" He asked, looking down into it, almost suspicious.

"It'll make you feel better," the girl assured. "Trust me."

"I feel fine," Ed insisted.

The girl stared at him through intense dark brown eyes.

"Just drink it," she told him and set the plate down on the chair as she got up, taking the tray with her.

Ed looked at me, waiting for me to tell him what it was. I shrugged. He shrugged as well, taking the straw in between his lips and started drinking the liquid. As he drank it, his eyes widened and he flinched a bit, and he took his mouth off of the straw to dink it from the lip of the cup. It was the fastest I had seen anyone drink something: 3 seconds flat.

"When was the last time you had a drink?"

"Oh god, I don't even know. But this," Ed gestured to the drink in his hand, "this is the best thing I have ever tasted. I'm not even exaggerating."

"Right."

"Where did you say we were again?" Ed asked as he sat down the empty glass and picked up the plate, which had sliced up pieces of an apple on it.

"Um...a camp," I replied, staring at Ed as he inhaled piece after piece of green apple. "...Camp Half-Blood."

He nearly choked on his food. "Camp _what_?" He asked, apparently only now taking in the name of the place. He looked pretty offended.

"Half-Blood. But probably not the way you're thinking of. Half-blood as in de-"

"Demigods, right," he interrupted with a wave of his hand.

Our conversation was quiet for a minute while Ed finished the apple slices.

Just as I was going to ask Ed about his nightmare, I was once again cut off before I had the chance.

"Hey." It was the girl who had given Ed his food and drink, jogging towards us. "Chiron wants to see you," she said as she came to a stop. "Both of you."

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><p><strong>Ed's POV<strong>

Let's get one thing straight: I absolutely _hate_ being pushed around in a wheel chair.

Not only is it bad enough that someone else is pushing me; I can almost feel the sympathy radiating off of everyone that's looking at me.

'Oh, poor boy, reduced to a wheel chair.' Yes, thank you for your riveting observation. It's not like I haven't heard the exact same thing over and over again for the past two weeks.

'And he's so young, too...' Congratulations! You are the 100th person to say that to me in my short time here! Please, step up and accept your trophy!

'I can only imagine what he's going through.' Well no, you probably can't, seeing as you continue (and show no signs of stopping) to give me enough pity to fill 10 funeral homes.

My eyes glaze over the - admittedly kind of cool - architecture that fills the landscape, too tired and too bothered to process the grand buildings and vastness of this camp. I know that the big and noticeable structures are _really_ bright in the midday sun, and that's enough for me to know before I rip my eyes away to look further into the valley. There's an alarming amount of kids. I mean, I don't think I've ever seen this many teenagers in the same place at once. There's probably not _that_ many; I would expect the same population in a small school. They're dotted across the camp: some are playing basketball, some are canoeing in the lake and others are on horses, and if I hadn't been knocked out for the majority of the past fortnight, I wouldn't have believed for a second that the stallions had wings. Oh, and a about a quarter of the kids had goat legs. Yeah, I don't know _what_ they've put me on.

The girl (who'd given me apple slices and that drink) wheels me up onto a porch; I hadn't even noticed there was a house here in my half asleep recognition of the camp. We enter the main door, take a right turn down the end of the hallway and move into a sun filled room in the corner of the house. The space is strangely decorated - grapevines are everywhere. They cover every wall, snaking up and down each wall and completely swallow the ceiling. To the side of the room, there is a stone fireplace holding smouldering wood surrounded by a coffee table and leather couches. Buried in one corner, an old Pac-Man arcade game beeps and blinks. Poking out of the vines, hung on the walls are a variety of masks - the smiley/frowny theatre ones, large carved wooden types and a bunch of other assorted masks that I don't recognise. The only thing that seems to be mundane is two middle aged men having an intense conversation. One of them is sitting in a wheelchair (twinsies!) with thinning hair and a scruffy beard. The other one is big and porky, with a red nose, bloodshot eyes and hair so black it could be mistaken for purple. Right as the girl wheels me up to them, their conversation stops before I can hear a thing that they say.

"Ah, Lan Fan," the one in the wheelchair starts, addressing the girl behind me. "Thank you for bringing these two here. You may return to the infirmary."

I turn my head to the left to look at her as she nods and walks briskly out of the room. I noticed the kid from the infirmary - what was his name again? Alphonse, that was it - standing in the doorway eyeing the different masks on the wall while fidgeting and playing with his clothes.

I turn back to the two men. Wheelchair Guy is giving me a warm smile. The fat one is looking a little pissed off, but otherwise bored.

"Good morning, Edward," Wheelchair says kindly. "My name is Chiron. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: first of all, id like to thank those who favourited/fllowed and reviewed. i appreciate it :). this chapter is basically just ed an al being introduced to the camp and telling you when its set, so a bit of dialogue is gonna be taken from tlt, tlh and tsom. hope you enjoy!

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><p><strong>Ed's POV<strong>

"Good morning, Edward. My name is Chiron. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood."

I stiffen, pausing. "How...did you know my name?"

"Oh, you don't remember?" I shake my head. "Well, that's to be expected. The night you arrived here, you were found in a pretty bad state, as I'm sure you have noticed." I resist the urge to lift my only remaining hand to the stump that used to be my right arm. "Yet, miraculously, you were still conscious, although barely. When you were asked, you gave us your name."

"Oh," I reply lamely. "Ok..."

Chiron clears his throat. "Let's take a seat, shall we?" He offers, gesturing to the couches in front of the fireplace.

I open my mouth for a second, but then decide not to point out the fact that both he and I are already sitting down.

Realising I can't actually move around on my own, (ugh, this sucks) as I just got out of a coma not ten minutes ago, I turn to look at Alphonse.

"Um, could you please...?"

"Oh. Yeah, sure," he says casually and brings me over to the side of the coffee table, angling my wheelchair against the couch that he places himself on.

Chiron is opposite me and looks like he is avoiding the glare that is given to him by the fat guy. Alphonse keeps playing with his fingers: he's drumming them against his legs, pulling at his clothes and the cushion of the couch, lightly snapping, cracking his knuckles, as if his hands refused to stay still.

"Now, Edward," Chiron starts, getting my attention. "Would you mind telling me," he pauses, "where you're from?"

I look between him and the chubby guy, who is now playing solitaire with a deck of cards and is sipping from a Coke can. Both of which were _definitely_ not there a second ago. He no longer looks angry, only bored of the current conversation.

"Well, I'm not sure," I answer, focusing on Chiron. "My father's work had us moved around a lot and I...I guess I never really asked him nor wondered where we started off."

"Your father had you move around a lot?" I nod. "Hmm... What about your mother?" My mother?

"She- I...didn't have one. She left when I was born."

"I see," Chiron nodded. "Edward, are you aware of your mother's identity?"

I want to ask, What's with all the questions? What did they have to do with anything? Why do you want to know? But instead I slowly say, "My father, he uh, tried to tell me once. But, he must've, I don't know, been drunk. He didn't know what he was saying. It made no sense."

The fatter guy snorts. "They all say that."

Chiron ignores him. "Edward, what did your father say?"

"What does it matter? He was crazy."

"Please, tell us."

I sigh. "One day he sat me down." One day, my life was ruined. "Told me he would reveal the 'secret identity' or whatever of my mum. He started going on and on about this regal beauty, this lady that he deemed 'one in a million' and 'better than he could've ever imagined.' He said that- he said that my mother was the Greek goddess of wisdom and warfare, Athena."

I wait for them to laugh. I wait for them to agree with me and say 'Wow, Ed, your father sure was batty!' Instead I'm greeted with silence and an understanding nod from Chiron.

"Okay," he says with a sort of finality.

More silence.

"'Okay'? That's it? What- what are you... You can't be serious," I say, cutting through the short lull.

"Hmm?" Chiron asks wordlessly.

"Are you-? Are you like, agreeing with my father?"

"I'm afraid so," Chiron tells me.

"What? You can't be serious," I repeat. "He was drunk or something. Crazy."

"Yes, just as I suspected." He's looking at me, bet I get the feeling that he's not actually talking to me. "There's a bit too much to tell. I'm afraid our usual orientation film won't be quite sufficient."

"Orientation- What? What are you saying?"

"Well, Edward. I know you may not like it, but your father was indeed telling the truth." I stare at him in exasperation. "There are great forces that are at work in your life. Gods - the forces you call Greek gods - are very much alive.

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><p><strong>Al's POV<strong>

I tuned out most of the conversation - I'd already heard it all yesterday.

Some of it I couldn't ignore: Ed's outbursts ("_Because_ science is fact! Hard and undeniable fact! Sure, it'll be primitive 2000 years from now, but so were the first stone tools! When they were first invented, they were state of the art! Modern! Science will never be called mumbo-jumbo because it's _real_. _Unlike_ gods.") and Mr D's silent wrath (he probably would've made Ed go insane if it hadn't been for the thunderous booms overhead). For the majority of the conversation, I felt like I wouldn't be included and would be left there sitting awkwardly next to Mr D for the whole time.

Which was fine with me; I didn't want to listen to an atheist trying to wrap his head around the concept of 'the Greek gods are real and one of them is my mother.'

So instead I focused on little, insignificant things. I focused on every time that my eyes would open and close; quicker than a heartbeat. I focused on the steady rise and fall of my chest, in harmony with where the pump of my blood would be. I focused on my throat; the sounds and actions it made while swallowing nerves. I focused on my hands when I sat on them, waiting for my pulse to find its way to my fingertips and beat through. I focused on the nape of my neck. I focused on the numb feeling that it brought, the feeling that was just _almost there_, the feeling that I wanted so _badly_. I focused, trying so hard, so, _so desperately_, for it to be able to feel something. To feel the soft breeze coming through the room. To feel the mask's eyes boring into it. To have it's hairs stand on end. To have something, _something, please, _that proved I could still feel something. Just _something_.

"Alphonse?" I was ripped out of my thoughts and forced back into the conversation.

I raised my head. Ed and Mr D near mimicked the expressions of two children when put on a time out for arguing, which was probably what happened. Chiron was glancing at me with a serious yet kind look, waiting for me to reply.

"Yes?" I answered, steadying my reeling mind.

"Would you care to inform me," he began, his voice almost uncharacteristically austere, "why is was that you wouldn't - pardon me - _couldn't_ eat or drink yesterday?"

I paused, knowing that had I been breathing at the time, I would've stopped.

"Well you see, sir, I'm afraid I'm trying to figure that out as well."

That afternoon was one of the longest I'd had in a while. I was stuck in the infirmary for most of the day, people fussing over me and trying to make me eat. When I was _finally_ set free, the activities were all over and it was close to dinner. I had planned on spending more time with Ed, get to know him better and maybe finally ask him about the nightmare he'd had, but he was exploring the camp and cabin six with his newfound sister, the girl Chiron called Lan Fan. I was originally going to stay in the Hermes cabin until dinner, except it was mostly empty save for a couple of sleeping kids; everyone else was out exhausting their celebrations from the day before.

"What's the celebrating for?" I asked a teenage blonde girl who stood on the outskirts of the small crowd.

"You a newbie?" She demanded.

She scoffed and looked me up and down when I nodded.

"It's Clarisse, my sister," she informed me reluctantly. "She brought back the Golden Fleece along with glory to Ares and the camp."

"The Golden Fleece?"

"Yes! Are you deaf? She delivered it to us and saved Thalia's tree."

"Oh. Ok, then. Thanks," I said simply, waving slightly as I walked off. I had no idea what Thalia's tree was, nor did I feel like asking the girl again.

Not knowing how else to waste my time, and only having 20 minutes before dinner, wandered aimlessly around camp. I stumbled upon the lake - and I mean I literally _stumbled_ upon it. Like an idiot, I wasn't looking where I was going. Someone had left an upturned canoe by the long body of water, and the end had caught my foot. I face planted onto the small boat and fell sideways into the water, scraping my arm against the root covered bank. Don't even ask me _how_ I wasn't able to see a 4m long canoe right in front of me; right then that was not in the least of my concerns.

The clear and cold water should've shocked me. And the canoe should've hurt. I should've been able to feel the slight pressure of the water squeezing my chest.

But I didn't.

I felt like crying, which, of course, I probably couldn't do. I'd already figured out that I couldn't eat, drink, sleep, breathe, smell, taste or feel anything, not even my own pulse. Things I could then add to my list: can't feel warmth or lack thereof, can't feel pain, (these should've been obvious with the whole 'unable to physically feel a thing' thing) doesn't get scratched or bleed when most definitely should, and others.

I'd had closed my mouth out of force of habit, though I had a dawning realisation that if I didn't even need to breathe while on land, does that mean...?

I slowly opened my mouth. It didn't feel any different. I stayed the same. I didn't start drowning, which was good. I almost screamed.

_"I can breathe underwater?!"_

Ok yeah, it wasn't actually breathing, but still.

I slumped out of the lake, only then noticing a couple of girls sitting in the water with baskets in their laps, a few metres off from where I fell in. One of them, with hair blotched black and white in a bob giggled and whispered something into the other's ear. The other one, with long, flowing jet black hair blushed and pushed the first one aside. It took a few seconds for me to remember that they were naiads, water nymphs, and that they hadn't fallen in like me.

I gave them a small smile before I walked away from the lake, carefully avoiding the offending canoe.

I sighed as I inspected myself. I - that is, to say, my skin - seemed pretty dry, but the same couldn't be said for my clothes. They were absolutely soaked, which was most likely not allowed in the dining pavilion. Yet another deep sigh escaped my lips as I had no choice but to return to cabin eleven and change my clothes.

Walking through the camp while my clothes were completely drenched definitely gave the other campers a lot to stare at. That fact that it also seemed to be that only my clothes were soaked and my body was entirely dry must've seemed rather strange, too.

After entering the cabin I changed into the only other set of clothes that I had: a white button up and pair of jeans. I had just enough time to change before I heard one of the Stoll brothers yell:

"Eleven, fall in!"

The whole cabin, about the size of a small class, filed out into the commons yard. Since we were lined up in order of seniority, I had been placed right at the end. We marched up to the pavilion, campers, naiads, nymphs and satyrs all following together.

We sat down at table eleven, trying hard to fit everyone in the small space provided (and almost failing). Eventually, after settling down, I had ended up with half my butt hanging off the bench, hinging onto the table to try and not fall off.

The hall was loud, rowdy and filled the air with a home-like atmosphere; everyone was laughing, vivacious and having fun with their friends as they waited for dinner to come so they could dig in and appease their appetites.

Chiron pounded his hoof against the marble floor of the pavilion, effectively silencing the crowd. He raised his glass. "To the gods!"

Everyone raised their glasses. "To the gods!"

Nymphs came out with platters filled with food: grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese, fresh bread, barbecue and so many others.

As soon as the food was handed out to us, we all started getting up for the burnt offerings.

I thought about what Connor Stoll had told me yesterday as he introduced me to the camp, and to the dinner customs. When I'd asked him why we set fire to our offerings, he'd shrugged and said, "I guess they like the smell."

_They like the smell, huh?_ I wish I could've been able to smell the burnt offerings, just to see if it actually was any good.

I walked up to the fire. If only I knew what god's name to say.

_Father. Please, tell me who you are._

I scraped off half of my food into the fire, seeing as since I wouldn't eat it anyway I could use it for extra offerings (and most _certainly not_ as bribery. Oh, no, I wouldn't stoop _that_ low to find the identity of my father). In retrospect, I could've been a little more subtle since everyone was looking at me as if I was either crazy or anorexic.

I sat back down at the Hermes table, everyone else stuffing themselves with delicious camp-made food while I focused on trying not to fall off my seat.

"Are you going to eat that?" A voice next to me asked.

"Huh?" I turned to my right and saw an Asian kid, about my age, smiling at me greatly through slitted eyes. His camp t-shirt looked burnt slightly at the collar and sleeves, and was fairly shredded at the hem, matching the style of his choppy dark bangs. His mouth was busy chewing food as he repeated his question.

"I said, are you going to finish that?" He asked a bit louder this time, gesturing with a fork in his hand to my plate.

"Oh, right. No, you can have it," I offered as I slid the plate closer to him.

"Really? Thanks!"

"Welcome."

He started ripping through my dish before he paused and looked back at me again. "Oh, I'm Ling, by the way. I don't believe we've met."

"No, I can't say we have. My name's Alphonse."

"So tell me, Alphonse," Ling began as he turned back to his meal. "When did you get here?"

"Um, yesterday. The Stoll twins announced my arrival to the cabin..."

"Oh, yes, I remember now. Although I was half asleep at the time. So, do you like the camp so far?" He asked, shoving a piece of lamb chop into his mouth.

"Uh, yeah, I guess. It's pretty cool."

"And are you a regular on undetermined?"

"Um..." Someone had asked me the same question yesterday, yet I failed to remember what it meant.

"Is Hermes your father or not?" He explained.

"Well, no. At least I don't think he is. Is he your father?"

"Sure is. Dear ol' Dad banged my mum as soon as he laid his eyes on her."

"...Have you met him?"

"Not yet. But I will." He'd finished my plate, stacking it on top of his equally as clean one. "What about you?" He asked as he turned more to me. "Is it your mother or father that's a god?"

"Father. Though I _really_ wanna know who he is."

"Ah, we've all been there," he comforted me as he patted my back forcefully. "Who knows? Maybe your father _will_ be Hermes, and then we can be brothers!" He gave a smile that didn't make me particularly excited to be living in the same cabin with him.

He got up from the bench clumsily and leaned in to ask, "You wanna go for seconds?"

I shook my head, "Nah." I didn't even realise that I hadn't felt hungry in the slightest.

Ling shrugged. "Ok." And he walked with a bounce in his step to find more food.

For the rest of the night, we talked casually, and I was thankful for him for not bringing up the topic of my lack of appetite. He tried to make me sing along in the campfire songs, but unfortunately all I could do was hum; I didn't know the words to any of them. It was nice to know he was making an effort to get along with the new kid at camp.

That night, a storm raged ferociously, though strangely not a single drop of rain touched down in Camp Half-Blood. It reminded me of my..._condition_, I guess you could say. The rest of the world was given something; I was left out. Or, the rest of the world had to face something; I was let off scot-free. As I looked around cabin eleven, my body refusing to sleep, I suddenly hear an uproar and vociferous pounding on doors, though both not loud enough to wake the other campers in my cabin. Making sure not to be too noisy, I carefully stepped over sleeping campers resting on the floor to reach the exit. Silently closing the door behind me, I raced to Half-Blood Hill, where groups of satyrs, nymphs and demigods were starting to gather under the blood red light of dawn.

Chiron galloped up to the hill with a kid on his back and a satyr at his side.

"Curse the Titan Lord," Chiron said. "He's tricked us again, given himself another chance to control the prophecy."

I had no idea what was going on or what Chiron was saying. I couldn't see pass the small crowd, and more people were arriving, trying to push through to get a glimpse of what was happening.

"The Fleece," Chiron started again. "The Fleece did its work too well."

_What is going on?_

He parted the crowd, granting me a chance to push through and see what all the fuss was about.

At the base of a tree, a girl was lying unconscious with another girl in Greek armour kneeling next to her. Above them, on the lowest branch of the pine tree glittered a golden fleece. The Golden Fleece. It was Thalia's tree.

"It healed the tree," Chiron announced raggedly. "And poison was not the only thing it purged."

_If only I had some context,_ I thought. _Then I would know what's happening, and when I'm supposed to be shocked._

The girl in the armour ran up to Chiron and said something I didn't listen to. The kid who was riding on Chiron's back leaped off and ran to the unconscious girl.

"Percy, wait!" Chiron called, but he ignored him.

The kid - no, Percy - kneeled down where the armoured girl once was and inspected the comatose one.

Nobody moved. No one said a thing.

"She needs nectar and ambrosia," Percy declared.

Still, we all remained silent. I wasn't sure why.

"Come on!" He yelled. "What's wrong with you people? Let's get her to the Big House."

And yet again, no one moved.

Out of the blue, the girl took a shaky breath and coughed, opening her electric blue eyes.

"Who-" she started in bewilderment.

"I'm Percy. You're safe now."

I was really beginning to like this kid for trying to save an unconscious girl while everyone else stayed silent and still. Which made me wonder, was this the first time something like this happened?

"Strangest dream..."

"It's okay."

"Dying."

"No," he assured her calmly. "You're okay. What's your name?"

"I am Thalia," she said. "Daughter of Zeus."

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><p>an: some of this chapter is eehhh but i guess the next one will be better cause 1. hopefully itll be starting the plot and 2. more characters will be introduced. also, there will be less italics. probably. hopefully you liked it and that's mostly all that matters. well, until next time, seeya


	3. Chapter 3

**Al's POV**

I wish I could've dreamt.

I wish I could fallen asleep alongside the rest of my cabin mates into the sweet release of sleep. I wish I could've had the night go by in just several minutes instead of several hours. I wish I never overthought anything. I wish I could've dreamt.

I wish I could've dreamt; to fall back into the past. The past when all was right, when we were happy and she was still here with me. I wish I could undo the wrongs I'd caused upon myself and turn back time for the better. I wish I hadn't been given a constant reminder, a constant curse for my mistakes. I wish I could've dreamt.

Instead I was left with a hard and hollow body. A body that could no longer feel the cold ground beneath it or the soft breeze flowing throughout the room. A body that couldn't even feel the beat of its own heart or the sting of pain or the need for fresh oxygen. A body that was stolen of all its sensations, of all its pleasures, all the little things that it didn't even know could be taken for granted. A body that was hollow and harsh, nothing short of death.

But I wasn't dead. And I wasn't alive either, depending on your definition of 'living.' Which, according to mine, I wasn't. For every day filled with fun and happiness and hope, there was a night, infinitely longer, filled to the brim with loneliness, misery and longing.

It felt like torture. To stay like that, like something that should be classified as lifeless, was worse than any pain I'd ever felt. It wasn't fair. All I'd wanted was to have her back, to see her smile just one more time...

And it was thinking like that that gave me this body. It was thinking that I could change the unchangeable, that I could achieve the impossible that had knocked me down a peg. And I deserved it, too. I was being arrogant to try and challenge fate. To challenge the gods. Yet, I still found myself thinking that _it wasn't fair._

So inevitably, I had two sides of myself arguing inside of me on whether it was wrong or not for me to attempt what I did. They would fight constantly, every time the lights went out and everyone else fell asleep. They made me feel guilty and anxious, depressed and angry. I was tired of them fighting each other. I was tired of regret. I was tired of having no clear answer. Was I wrong? Was it justified? Could I have done something different? I wanted all this confusion building up inside of me to stop so badly. I wish I could've slept. I wished, I yearned, I thirsted for just _one_ night that would've let me dream.

"Dude, Al, what are you doing?" A hushed voice interrupted my muse.

I scanned my eyes across the cabin, trying to identify the distraction.

"Why are you up so late?" I looked to the top bunk on a bed to my immediate left, craning my neck to get a better look at Ling.

"You...You're up too, you know."

"I always wake up at this time."

I paused, considering his reply. "What? Why? It's like...2:30 in the morning..."

"Oh...yeah..." He so cleverly answered. "It's cause... You know what? Doesn't matter. Go to sleep and just...pretend this never happened or something. I don't care."

I paused.

"U-Um, okay then..."

I tried to act casual (well, as casual as you can when someone tells you to 'go to sleep and pretend this never happened') as I slipped under the sheets and closed my eyes, half expecting my brain to shut down and allow me to go to sleep. But of course, as I should've known, I stayed awake as I heard Ling sneak around the cabin doing god knows what to our cabin mates, not once ever opening my eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>Ed's POV<strong>

I wish I couldn't dream.

I wish I had sleepless nights; waiting for the sun to come up would be much more quicker than having to replay all of my deepest memories, my dirtiest secrets, over and over again unwillingly. I wish I could stay awake and alert, not having to trudge endlessly through the rubble and debris of the broken barriers in my mind. I wish I could stay away from my past, let it stay where it should be and never remember her face again. I wish I wasn't given a constant reminder, a constant curse for my mistakes. I wish I couldn't dream.

Instead I'm thrown into a world that I have no control over, no hope of ever knowing what I'm going to witness. I do see flashes that I have more or less grown accustomed to: a distant figure turning away from me, leaving to never look back on what she left behind; a man, showing me the same hostility as his wife so as to not waver his concentration as he works his life force away.

And now another nightmare has surfaced, another bad dream has been birthed to add to the overflowing collection: a monster, a hideous beast, a disgusting and unforgiving creature looking up at me through eyes I once trusted, talking to me in an innocent and sweet voice, "Big Brother?"

I scratch them away. I claw, bite, and struggle with all the strength I can muster to ignore what my eyes force me to watch. In the end I know that no matter how hard I fight, no matter how strong the walls I build are, these memories and the feelings that inhabit them will fight back infinitely harder, they will make sure that they will never stay repressed, that they never stay away in the back of my mind.

And once again, the scene changes. I find myself looking down on a beautiful green valley, even grander than Camp Half-Blood. Hills roll over and over though the vast plain, the gorgeous sight only ever interrupted by the occasional building.

I turn behind me, only to realise that I'm standing at the door of a two story house towering over me. I don't know why I decide to, but I reach out towards the rusty golden doorknob. As soon as I turn it, the wooden green door in front of me lurches open and I'm yanked into the house and hurled through the structure until I'm tossed into the darkest room and the end of the house. And suddenly, as I open my eyes, I'm in someone else's body.

I can't tell what's happening. At first, everything is a vibrant, electric blue. Then the room turns a deep shade of purple, before being completely turned on its arse and changing to pure, blinding white. For a second I feel dizzy as everything turns pixelated yet clear all at once, and then in less than a split second I can't feel anything at all. Everything is black. I look around, not sure whether this will continue to make absolutely no sense whatsoever or if it will change into a different but familiar nightmare. My question is answered as the room bursts into flame.

I run around, realising I'm back in my own body.

_But no, that can't be right,_ I reason with myself, _I'm_ running_. _

Yet, I know that I am. I dash around the burning room as it turns to ash and dust around me, trying to find an exit. A beam falls, sending sparks up in the air and a deafening crunch to the ground. The room is falling down around me. Scratch that, the whole _house_ is coming down. I continue to search for an exit as it seems my whole world is going up in flames.

And then, I stop. I stop to stare at the flames. I stop to look around me. I stop, staring at a little boy lying on the ground, his eyes closed and his body curled in a ball.

The fire isn't bothering him. The fire is bothering his clothes, though. The last piece of fabric that covered and protected his skin turns to smouldering ash. The fire, now having stolen the barrier between it and him, advances. The flames licked his skin, yet he did not burn. His hands hugged the fire, but it slithered out of his reach. A boy, with his golden hair matching the flames, lying in the fire without once ever opening his eyes.

I hear a whisper in the air, turning my blood to ice despite the fire engulfing my surroundings.

_You sought out for life. You were so desperate to even defy me._

I turn around wildly, eyes manically searching for the owner of the voice.

_In your foolishness, you were blinded. Blinded from reality. Blinded from the truth. From me. Life only flows in one direction. To break the flow is sin. And in accordance for sin...comes punishment._

A chill runs down my spine as I figure that the voice is not talking to me, yet the kid on the floor.

_And as for your punishment... You were arrogant; prideful. And for that, you will be rewarded with despair; humility._

Rewarded?

_You will be given...a reminder. You were greedy for life, for comfort and affection. And now, in your arrogance, you will be given a body that is unable to feel the warmth that you so desperately missed._

Only now does the kid rise. Only now does he open his grass green eyes. And only now do I recognise his face, only now do I realise...

"Get UP!"

I spring up in my bed so quickly that I hit my forehead on the bunk above mine.

"Ow.." I massage the soon-to-be bruise as I sink back into my mattress.

"You're making us late. Hurry up and get ready." Even without looking, I know that it's Lan Fan nagging me.

For some reason we don't really..._enjoy_ each other's presence. It's definitely something to do with the fact that we're both hot headed and stubborn; I'm willing to admit that I am. But if I can say one thing about our relationship, it's that she started it. I mean, she didn't start the relationship; she started the mutual disliking of one another. And Hell will freeze over before someone hates me and I don't hate them back.

I slowly but steadily climb out of my bed and into the wheelchair beside it, glad that I don't have to change; I didn't have pyjamas anyway. As I perform a messy job of making my bed, my mind is cluttered with thoughts of my dream: what had Alphonse done? Was it just a weird dream? If not, what _happened? _And what was that voice?

The inspector comes and leaves quicker than for me to start caring about them. I try to push thoughts of Alphonse to the back of my mind and attempt to focus on what's happening today. Chiron decided yesterday before dinner that this decision and action was best for me, and a new opportunity for the camp to finally take a step forward (though I know that he meant to say "This has never happened before and you're an experiment."). I have to admit, I'm really excited and overwhelmed that this could actually happen, and that it was about to. Unfortunately, Al plagued my mind.

_It was just a stupid dream,_ I chide myself, _it doesn't mean a thing._

_My dreams have been right before... _I rebut.

I want to hit myself on the head for thinking about _that_. I want to strangle that part of me that keeps bringing it up and won't let me forget about what I did wrong.

_Stay positive, you dick,_ I tell myself. _And don't think about_ that_. Today is gonna be awesome._

* * *

><p><strong>Winry's POV<strong>

"How long would it take?"

The question rings in my ears as I ponder the question. Considering the blueprints, materials, assembly, surgery, connection, calibration, rehab and everything in between, it would probably take about...

"A year; year and a half at the most."

The golden boy in front of me shifts his weight in his wheelchair.

"Is there any way I could do it quicker than that?" He asks.

I snort, getting up from my desk and checking over the plans once again. "Only if you want to burn yourself from the inside out."

He sighs though his nose.

I give a short sigh as well.

This is the biggest project that I have ever done. This is bigger than the time I basically made an entire grandfather clock from scratch. This is bigger than all the magic equipment that campers had me make that would ensure their safety and wellbeing. This is bigger than all of my projects put together (which, now that I think about it, would look kind of cool). I cannot believe that last night, Chiron approached me with the challenge of making two fully functioning prosthetic limbs.

A right arm and a left leg. I would have to build, from scratch, half the limbs of this kid. It was pretty weird to think about how I was giving him his ability to walk back; I just hope that I can do it properly and not stuff everything up. Which would be terribly awful, because it would be a few years before he could start surgery again. And I intend for that to not happen, and for him to be back on his feet as soon as I can possibly manage. In order for this to go well, I need to think positive, stay confident and keep a trust in Edward that he will also fully trust me.

I look down at the crippled blond, putting the plans for the prosthetics down and sporting a smile. "Well, let's get started, shall we?"

* * *

><p>an: first things first: this chapter was a filler. i believe that was kinda obvious. plot next chapter, i swear. aslo i know winry's part was super crazy short, but itll most likely be longer next chapter. promise. thanks to you who followed/faved and reviewed, im really grateful. and one last thing: for izumi, i really really _really_ want her to be a daughter of hera, but that cannot happen for obvious reasons. is there any other god/goddess that might suit her and/or could there possibly be a way for her to still be a daughter of hera, yet we could get around it (like, idk a curse that forbids her from ever having a family...*hint hint*)? idk. tell me what you guys think. and with that, ill see you with the next one. seeya


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: gosh, so sorry for not posting last week. i had exams almost every single day and when i didnt have those, i had assignments due. anyway, special thanks to those who r/f/f; i really need those to keep going. it's what keeps me motivated. and now, a chapter that hopefully youll find interesting! enjoy~

* * *

><p><strong>Winry's POV (3rd person)<strong>

It was winter. Frozen rain in the form of sugar slowly fell down from the heavens, setting down on the camp as a light blanket. The weather was just perfect for cuddling up around the fire with a good book, which is what most of the campers had tried to do despite responsibility and work biting through their time. That is, _most_ of the campers; conveniently excluding Winry Rockbell. Daughter of Hephaestus and master of all things mechanical, she had worked tirelessly throughout the past half a year on her biggest project yet. She could barely contain the excitement growing in her stomach as the whole thing was coming to a close, only taking out a spare moment of her time to work on the small finishing touches.

"This is amazing, Ed," she revered, wiping sweat from her brow. She applied the last sweep of maintenance to his left leg before eagerly moving on to his right arm. "You went through the surgery and rehab in nearly half the time that I expected you to."

"Yeah, it's amazing," Alphonse repeated. He had come down to most of the 'automail' (as Winry had dubbed it) sessions with his friends, enjoying the time spent with the two other blondes as he saw them work together.

Al gave a pointed look at Ed, who shifted slightly under his glare.

"Um, Winry?" Ed's quiet voice breached the comfortable silence, effectively gaining the sweet blonde's attention.

"Hm?" She replied wordlessly, determined to not be distracted from her almost-done masterpiece.

"There's uh, something I've been meaning to tell you..." Ed turned his head to where his best friend stood, nodding and urging him on.

"Yeah? What is it?"

"Well, uh, how should I say this..." He stuttered.

"Just come out and say it already," she pressed, not unkindly.

Ed stayed silent for a second before looking at Al once more, who only gave another nod.

Quickly with a deep breath, Ed confessed, "The reason why I recovered so quickly is 'cause I took more nectar and shit than you prescribed."

Winry paused her final check-up. She looked at Ed, then up at Al for some sign of (dis)confirmation. Unfortunately, all the young boy could do was shrug his shoulders in shared disbelief.

She looked back at Ed. "What the hell do you _mean_ you took more than you were prescribed?!" The young girl's voice filled the camp forges, her siblings groaning in annoyance at the now common arguing.

"It _means_ what it means!" He snapped back at her after a second. "I may or may not have asked the nymphs for more nectar and ambrosia than what you... decreed... particularly necessary."

Winry stared at Ed, sky blue boring into determined gold. She just couldn't believe how dangerously stupid he could be at times, and still have managed to get this far in life without killing himself.

"Are you an idiot?" She demanded after yet another silence-filled second. "This is, by far, the worst thing that you've ever done. And that is saying a lot. You are such an incompetent little sh-"

Before Winry was able to finish her insult, Ed's face turned deathly dark; he growled through gritted teeth, "What was that?"

Winry paused again before answering the vertically challenged blond, "You heard me," she said, leaning in closer to him. "You are an incompetent. _Little_. shit."

The remainder of the campers present took this as their cue to block their ears as they had done countless times before.

"Who are you calling short?! I'll rip out you eyeballs and shove 'em down your throat!"

Even Al, who had by now grown accustomed to Ed yelling insults most of the time, made a face at the notably grotesque image he'd promised Winry.

And of course, being completely done with all his crap, Winry hit Ed with a wrench.

Al stepped out of the way as Ed was sent with enough force that knocked him off the borrowed infirmary cot, sending him sprawled across the floor and guarding his head from further harm.

"Ugh..." He slumped back up, rubbing his forehead. "You know, Winry, you're gonna kill me one of these days with that damned wrench of yours!"

Winry saw out of the corner of her eye Al inching backwards towards the other campers.

"Yeah well, what do you care? You can just fix it right back up with that nectar that you apparently love so much! While you're at it, why don't you just each an entire three course meal of ambrosia? Since, of course, you're such a god of a guy and don't have the same safety concerns as mortals!"

_Wait, did I just call him a 'god of a guy?'_

Ed huffed. "Well _excuse_ me for just wanting to be on my feet a little earlier! I don't know if you've ever tried it, but not walking _sucks_."

"Oh, gods. You are so impatient. You know that, right?"

"_Oh_, so I'm guessing that _you_ know that _you're_-"

Ed would've finished his accusations, and would've definitely made Winry even more pissed than she already was. But unfortunately, interrupting him in the middle of his sentence a flying and flaming mini bus crashed into the lake.

* * *

><p><strong>Al's POV<strong>

When Winry and I were rushing down towards the lake, not once did it ever cross my mind that when I arrived at the scene, I could, and would, find out who my father was.

Nor did I expect for there to be a small school bus to have crashed into the lake, or that it would be on fire and boil the winter water and melt the canoes.

A group of girls, maybe about a dozen of them, had just finished emerging from the van, all dressed in silver ski parkas and jeans. Following them was Grover Underwood, a girl and a boy who appeared to be close, Percy Jackson, Thalia Grace and a blond teenager who seemed to be literally _beaming_.

Before we could approach them and ask if anyone was ok or what had happened, the group of girls started to walk off towards the cabins, lead by the enthusiastic Grover.

Winry and I walked up to the remaining four passengers.

"Take care, sweethearts!" The blond called after the group of girls. He winked at Percy. "Watch out for those prophecies, Percy."

"Um, not to intrude," Winry started suddenly, gaining their attention, "But what...happened here?" She gestured towards the bus.

I noticed Thalia blushing lightly before the blond guy put a hand on her shoulder, "Just a little test drive. Nothing to worry about."

I looked between the two, still not sure what happened. "Okay..."

The blond turned to me and instantly perked up (even more). "Ah! You!" He pointed at me. "Yes, I knew there was something I'd forgotten."

I stayed silent, not knowing what what he meant. I looked to the others for help, but unfortunately they looked just as lost as I did.

"Yes, well," he took my hand and shook it, "this may seem very random and sudden, but pleased to finally meet you, son."

I would've stopped breathing. I stared at him, my mouth open, the others all sharing my surprise.

Wait...so, my father, who by then I had most definitely have accepted was a god, turned out to be a seventeen year old suave peppy kid. What god did that fall under again?

"...What?" I manage to finally say.

"Yep! Son of Apollo, yours truly. Feel proud? You should." He let my hand go, looking at his as if there was a complicated puzzle on it. My mind felt like it was trying to put one together.

"Um..." I said intelligently. Apollo was my father? My father, in front of me. My father, the sun god. My father, the god of medicine. My father, the one who left my mother to die...

He clicked his fingers as if he just figured out the puzzle.

"Yeah," he pointed at me again, "you're the one who got cursed by Hades, right?"

My heart would've stopped dead. I stared at Apollo, focusing on him and only him as my eyes blocked rest of the world.

_Cursed...by Hades?_

My mind went into overdrive, repeating his sentence over and over again in my head until it was the only thing I could hear. I thought about everything that happened since that day, everything I was burdened with and everything that went wrong.

That was all Hades?

Apollo studied my face and quickly said, "Oh, wait, no. I must've mistaken you for...my other son...Asklepios! Yeah, he was a nasty bugger," He lied.

"N-No-" I tried to say.

He turned away from me and looked at the daughter of Zeus. "Later, Thalia."

"Wait a minute-"

He climbed back into the the bus. "And, uh, be good!"

"Stop..."

His eyes quickly flitted towards me, confusing me further, before he flashed a wicked smile at Thalia.

"Wait..." I said softly, but he'd already closed the doors and revved the engine. I couldn't find it in myself to look at my father as he drove away into the sky, becoming smaller and smaller until he disappeared. He came and went way too quickly, and left far too big a bomb.

My head was reeling and racing. I knew that he wasn't lying when he said I was cursed and I knew that he didn't mistake me for one of my brothers. Especially since I know what happened: my mother told me stories about him. Asklepios wasn't even cursed by Hades; he was cursed by Zeus. And what he did wasn't off his own accounts: he was asked to do so by Apollo's sister, Artemis. But there is one thing that he and I did have in common, besides our father. One thing that we both did, and in turn both had to pay the prices for.

We both tried, and succeeded in, raising the dead.

"You...you were cursed. By Hades." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

I nodded. "Yeah."

Ed furrowed his brows. "And you only found out just now?"

"Well, I, uh..." I went over it in my head.

It occurred to me that throughout the three years of this curse being implemented, I had never really once thought about who cursed me or what it was, rather just why I had it and the consequences of it.

"...Yeah."

Winry shook her head, "I thought you said you had the Achille's Curse."

"I do. I just...didn't get it willingly."

If it could, my stomach would've felt sick at the fact that I was withholding critical information from my two closest friends.

Ed tutted his tongue. "I can't believe this. Why would Hades curse you anyway? What did you even do?"

I wanted to cry right there on the spot. Or vomit, or faint, or whatever. Anything that both proved I was still human as well as doubling as means of postponing my explanation.

"Uh, about that... There's something I've been meaning to tell you guys."

One good thing about having a body that won't cry: you don't have to choke back any tears.

"Yeah?"

I sat down on Winry's work bench. They way we had set up: me sitting on the bench, the two of them sitting on the cot; it was reminiscent of an adult preparing their kids for some bad news.

"About this curse." No butterflies in my stomach. No lump in my throat to hold the words back. "I...I do know what it is, and I've actually- I've actually had it for a while." Though my physical body had let all the reigns loose and set me free, my mind had me locked down in shackles. "Three years, in fact." I sigh, straining to break through the chains and finally come clean.

"Do you want to know the full story?"

They look at each other, faces contorted with confusion before looking back at me and nodding.

So I confess. And as I retell my past, I find it starts to slowly pull me down along with it, giving me no choice but to relive it as they are told.

* * *

><p><em>"And what happened next? What happened?"<em>

_She laughs softly, settling her child._

_"Asklepios_ did _revive him. Hippolytos was as healthy as ever, and Artemis was eternally grateful."_

_He claps. "Yay!"_

_"But, the other gods disapproved. Aphrodite hated losing. Especially to a maiden goddess. And Hades: he hated it when the dead were revived. So they both went up to Zeus to complain for what had happened, demanding justice upon Asklepios. And do you know what Zeus did?"_

_Leaning in with anticipation, "What?"_

_"He found Asklepios...and electrocuted him!"_

_A gasp, "No!"_

_"Yes. Sadly, Asklepios died. None of the gods wanted any human having that much power. But, Hippolytos did get a happy ending. Artemis had made sure he stayed safe, sending him off to Italy where he lived to a ripe old age. The end."_

_"Oh. That's good for Hippopotamus, I guess."_

_A tut of the tongue. "Aw, are you sad over Asklepios?_

_A nod._

_"It's ok." She pulls him closer for a hug. "He's in a better place now. He's with Daddy. And Daddy will keep him safe."_

_"Really?"_

_"Yes. Daddy is big and strong and will protect Asklepios for you. He's protecting you too, you know. And me. He keeps us both safe, even from up there in the sky..."_

_"In the sky..."_

_A silence before she starts to hum. She hums a tune that is known by many and sung by all. A tune that when sung, her child shall fall swiftly asleep to, and is comforted by in the night._

_"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey..."_

* * *

><p><em>"Hey, Mummy?"<em>

_"Yes, honey?"_

_He walks up to her, a book holding all his attention as it lay open in his arms._

_"What does this word say?" He asks, pointing to a word that repeats continuously throughout the book._

_"Oh. That says 'alchemy,' darling." She smiles at her son._

_"'Al-ke-mi?'"_

_"That's right," she smiles. "It's a mystical, lost power, once used to alter the natural world. They say it lied somewhere between a magic, art and a science." _

_Her son's green eyes glittered with amazement._

_She smiles again, crouching down to his eye level. "Some even say that the gods gifted us humans with the power of alchemy, so that we could learn to become closer to them."_

_"Whoa..."_

_"But...they ripped it from our possession once we became too greedy and arrogant. Most people used it so they could make gold for themselves, making them rank higher than they actually were."_

_He pouts. "That's not fair. Alchemy looks cool. I wish I could use it."_

_She chuckles, ruffling his hair as she stands up. "Yeah. Maybe one day. Now, come on. It's time for lunch. You can read that after you eat."_

* * *

><p><em>"Hey, Mum?"<em>

* * *

><p><em>"Mum?"<em>

* * *

><p><em>"Mum!"<em>

* * *

><p><em>It was done. It was complete. It was over; finished. They lay sleeping in the dark room, figures surrounded by chalk drawings of perfect circles, shapes, figures and words all taken in for account to make this so successful. <em>

_Through heavy eyes, he sees. Her chest rises up and down slowly, her closed eyes darting back and forth as dreams play behind her eyelids. He did it. He brought her back. They can live together again. He did it, he did it, he did it._

_Then, the world shook. Wrath of the gods poured down on the scarce countryside, illuminated the night with false flashes of day. A voice in his head. A voice, invading. A voice bringing down the hammer._

Get out. Get out. Get out.

_A flame starts. The fire spreads everywhere, engulfing the room and not leaving one inch of ground bare. He catches fire, but does not burn. The same cannot be said for her, though._

_She boils. She burns, her limbs dancing in sync with the flames. Her skin bubbling; bubbling across her whole body like milk being blown through a straw. She wails a blood curling wail. Her lungs are being played like a symphony by the flame's fingers until they burn raw._

_She is dying. Again. In front of his eyes. Again. _

No, this can't be happening. Not again. Not after all I've worked for. After all I've suffered through. After all she's suffered through. It can't be. It's happening again.

_She has died. Again._

_He wants to cry. His body refuses, knowing the tears for her would be stolen by the fire anyway. He wants his throat to hurt, but his body won't let him. If it does, the fire will eat it all up. So he is left alone. Left with nothing but a prickling on the back of his neck and a bloody puddle on the floor, which too is being slowly consumed by the flames. _

_His world crumbles around him, and he is left, all alone, sitting at the rubble._

* * *

><p>In all that time spent gushing out my past, I did not for one second notice the present. I did not take in how Ed and Winry reacted or how they felt or if they were even paying attention. And in all that time spent gushing out the past, I did not notice for one second Percy Jackson standing there, listening along to my secrets.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Al's POV**

No one says a thing.

I stared at Percy, his eyes looking any where but mine. Glaring at him, he shifted on his feet where he stood: right behind where my two best friends sat. Everyone continued in our silence.

"How long have you been standing there?" I demanded.

Ed and Winry immediately jump up and turn to where I was looking.

"Um, not that long, actually, I was just-"

"Dude!" Ed interrupted rudely. "What the fuck?"

Percy spread his hands defensively. "What? I just came here to tell you guys about capture the flag tomorrow; I didn't know Alphonse was gonna tell his life story."

"Yeah, well he didn't know that you were gonna be eavesdropping!"

"I wasn't eavesdropping!" He looks at me. "I thought you could see me," he excused, laying a hand out towards me.

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe he couldn't?" Winry interjected, a hand on her waist.

Percy threw his hands up. "He was sitting literally right in front of me."

"Well you could've at least've said something."

Ed started to add another word in but I cut him off before he had the chance.

"Guys," I sighed. "It's okay."

"What?" Ed entreated. "No! No, he invaded your privacy unrightfully and heard all your personal secrets without your permission. That's not okay."

"Hey, I didn't hear all of them," Percy corrected.

Ed turned and glared back at Percy.

"Yeah, what _did_ you hear?" I asked, not letting them argue any longer. "How many of my secrets did you find out?"

Percy didn't respond for a second.

"Just the last part," he said simply.

"Be more specific."

"The part about..." He waved his hand in a vague gesture. "The Achilles' Curse. And how it's like," he shrugged, "on steroids or something."

Had I been sitting up straight, I would've slumped back down with a breath.

I thought to myself, _Thank the gods. He doesn't know what actually happened._

I chuckled. "I guess that's one way to put it."

* * *

><p><strong>Ed's POV<strong>

Today, I will finally be able to walk on my own two feet.

The surgery is done, the rehabilitation is over and I don't have to spend any more time on that damned infirmary cot. In only about a third of the time in the past nine months was I ever able to lie down on an actual, comfortable bed. I think I might need to have some work done on my spine, as well.

Anyway, Winry is having me do a bunch of tests to make sure that my automail is working properly and if not what adjustments she has to make. It's only been a day since she officially finished, but she (and I) are still confident that the limbs will work exceptionally. If all the tests go well, I'll be allowed to participate in capture the flag tonight (which I am seriously looking forward to. I can't wait to get my muscles moving again and bash some heads).

"Honestly, Winry, your automail's probably perfect," I told her as we walked to the racing track between the archery grounds and the woods; the one they used last summer for the chariot races. "There's no need to go to all this trouble."

She rolls her eyes. "You say that, yet you're still falling behind me."

I try to think of a comeback, but come up with nothing as I realise that she's right.

We make it to the track, a 400m ring paired with tiered stands for a non-existent audience. The dark green grass shines lightly in the morning sun, covered with small and delicate snowflakes that have seeped through the camp barriers. The frozen grass crunches quietly under our feet as we make our way to the starting point.

"Okay, Ed," Winry starts, putting her toolbox (that she brought for good measure) down on the wet grass and pulling out her clipboard and pen, "if you can jog - or run, if you wanna, I guess - around this track once, and in this weather no less, then your first leg test will be passed."

"Just once?" I ask, getting ready to take off.

"Just once," she confirms. "Ready?"

I nod.

"Go!"

My right foot launches me forward and my metal one follows. Step after step they work in sync, just as they should as they lead me further and further over the track. I try to bounce off the balls of my feet as I jog, to make my toes push my steps further. I don't receive much in response from my left foot save for a metal clank against a hard surface, a stumble and curse. I try again, same result. I shake it off; _Just think about moving one foot in front the other. Repeat a few times and there you go, you're running._

The balance is, admittedly, a bit off, but what else could you possibly expect? My arms pump in opposite motion as my legs, blades cutting through the air as if paddles in water. I slowly but surely start to gain confidence in my new leg, transitioning form a slow jog into a light run. I begin to ignore the feeling of no feeling and instead focus on my goal: finish this.

I'm halfway through. I look to Winry who has now sat herself down on the bleachers, pulled her hood up and is jotting something down on her clipboard. Turning back to my path, I prepare myself for a final sprint.

The wind is whipping at my face and tiny droplets of snow are embedding themselves into my skin. I have to squint my eyes in order for them to not get damaged as I start to run faster. The final curve is upon me and I start to feel increasingly more comfortable using my automail leg (and arm, to an extent) and am certain that I'll pass Winry's test with flying colours. Just around the final bend and I'm done with the first one.

I slow down as I cross the finish line, my automail moving naturally and perfectly in sync with my wanted movements.

"Well, done, Ed," Winry congratulated as she walked up to me, holding her clipboard in one hand. "Your run was perfect."

I smile. "I told you your automail was fine. We probably don't even have to do the rest of the tests."

She rolls her eyes and walks back to her her toolbox, picking it up. "Come on... Hm. I really need a name to call you."

We start to walk away from the track and to the next test.

"What's wrong with Ed? Or Edward?"

"Eh..." she shrugged. "They're too, I dunno, plain, I guess...?" She shrugged again.

"Well, they're my name, and you can call me by them. I don't really need another."

She hums in response. "What about 'Ward'?"

I scoff. "No way."

"Uh, 'Goldilocks'?"

"Absolutely not."

"'Shorty'?" She grins.

"I _will_ hurt you."

"Fine, fine. What about 'Wise Guy'...?"

I frown. "Isn't that what Percy Jackson calls his girlfriend?"

"No, he says 'Wise Girl'; that's different. And I don't think Percy and Annabeth are dating."

I stop. "Aren't they?"

Winry stops as well. "Are they?"

We stand thinking for a second before I wave it off and continue to walk.

"Well, okay then," Winry says, starting to fall in step with me again, "what about 'Cullen'?"

"_God_ no."

"'Vampire Boy'?"

"Nope. Shut up."

"'Mr Swan'?"

"I swear to the gods, Winry," I warn.

"Okay, okay. So no Twilight references. Are absolutely sure about 'Goldilocks'? I mean, your hair is pretty long. And basically gold."

"Ugh. If it'll shut you up, how about, I don't know," I roll my wrist, waving my hand, "something about science...?"

"You do like your science. Hm... What about 'Physics Freak'? It has alliteration," she offered. "That's a plus."

I bite back a retort. "Okay. Gear Head."

She smiles lightly, as if content.

We walk several metres in comfortable silence.

"So, what's the next test?" I ask, eager to exercise my new limbs.

Without reading off of her clipboard, Winry automatically responds: "Javelin."

I nod. "Good. I'm ace at that."

We walk up to where they were holding javelin-throwing lessons, where the camper in charge was sending Percy off for some unknown reason. Winry went to ask the Ares kid if we could join while I continued to look after Percy while he walked off.

Winry walked back to where I was standing, a small bounce in her step. "Right. So she says we can do whatever as long as we don't disturb the class."

"Cool. So, how many javelins will I need?"

Winry consulted her clipboard. "Only a few. Could you get them for me?"

"Sure," I said as I went to the crate where they were held, grabbing three.

"Okay, so, if you can properly throw these javelin and not have your arm mess up, your arm will be good. Oh, and if you could take your jacket off so I can actually see your arm, please. Thanks."

I comply, taking my red jacket off and placing it next to me, leaving me with just a navy tank top on.

"Okay, so I just gotta get these javelins onto the target?"

"Yep."

Pretty easy. The target's a large square, about 1 or 2m each side, and we're standing around 15m away from it. I pick up one javelin in my right hand, aim, and launch it into the air. Throughout the whole process, Winry is inspecting my arm from where she stands, looking for kinks and errors. The javelin hits the target strongly; top left corner near the bull's eye.

"Oho, nice throwing arm, Hohenheim!" Winry complimented.

I wince. "Please don't call me by my last name."

She's writing something down. "Why not?"

Not able to think of a good answer, I shrug, "I thought we agreed on Physics Freak." I bend down to pick up another javelin.

"Hey, do you think I should try to hit that javelin," I ask, changing the subject, "or should I just leave it alone?"

Winry sighs. "Just leave it."

"Hm, ok."

Once again, I pull my arm back and thrust it forward, sending the javelin flying though the air, hitting the bull's eye perfectly.

"Haha, yes! Strike!" I exclaim.

Winry jots something down again.

"Hey, how does your arm actually feel? Like does it seem natural or does it lag, or what?" She enquired.

"Oh, the arm feels great. I can move it as freely and smoothly as a regular arm, and it can exert just as much strength, as well. Same with my leg. They're both great."

Winry just nods and scribbles something down.

"Okay, just this last one, then the reading on your arm will be finished."

I nod. Taking the last javelin in my metal hand, I wind my arm back, aim and fire. The javelin flies swiftly through the air, landing on the target with a definitive _thunk_. It sits to the right of the bull's eye, almost grazing the other javelin.

Winry takes her eyes off my automail to write down a comment.

"Okay," she starts, finished with her report. "Now only two more to go."

I groan. "Come one, Winry."

She looks at me through exasperated eyes. "What?"

I sigh. "You know your automail's gonna be perfect. There's no need to do any more tests or check-ups to see if it's alright. I passed the first two with flying colours, right?" I ask, knowing she'll confirm it.

Reluctantly, she nods a yes.

"See? Your work's fine. We don't need to do anymore tests. I'll be able to play in capture the flag tonight."

She thinks it through for a bit. Finally, she groans, "Fine. We'll stop. But don't expect to be charging into battle like some Roman tonight."

I smirk. "Wouldn't dream of it."

When hauling a sacred mummy up to its home, the last thing you would expect it to do is spit green gas and nonsense at you. Unfortunately for me, that is exactly what it decided to do.

After capture the flag, which frankly wasn't as interesting as I thought it'd be, the Oracle decided to stroll down from the attic and give out a prophecy to Zoë Nightshade, the leader of the Hunters. Apparently that wasn't supposed to happen, nor had it ever had happened or been or heard of or seen before. And for some reason, after the Oracle had placed herself down on a comfy-looking rock, she didn't think it necessary to walk back by herself. So Percy and I had been unfairly elected to drag the Oracle up to its rightful place in the Big House's attic. And damn, was she heavy. I never knew a dead person could weigh so much.

Together, Percy and I eventually made it to the stairs leading to the attic, sweating and huffing all the way.

"No, no, no, no!" I warn quickly, alerting Percy of the trapdoor frame that he was about to ram the Oracle into. "Watch it, Watch it!"

Too late, its head and the frame collide with a bonk, sending musty dust flying through the air. We set the corpse down, checking it for any harm done.

"Ah, man," Percy complains, "did I break anything?"

I inspect as closely as I can without gagging. "I don't...think so. Probably not. Come on."

We haul the Oracle up and into the attic to set her down on her tripod stool. We stand a few seconds, both of us catching our breath. I notice Percy looking at the Oracle kind of - suspiciously? Expectantly? Something like that - before sighing and turning back to the attic door. I follow suit, unable to wait to get away from the mummified corpse.

Once Percy steps through the door, I pause. I pick up a faint susurrus sound behind me before realising green, misty smoke being spewed at my feet. Percy realises this, too, and tries to say something before the trapdoor is slammed shut. The mist is now accompanied but a strange, low hissing sound, as if the thick tendrils of smoke are hundreds of snakes. I pull at the door, but it won't budge.

I whirl around to face the Oracle, green smoke pillowing from her mouth and her right hand outstretched, as if asking for money.

And then, a voice invades my mind, snaking in through my ear and infesting my head: _Approach, seeker. And ask._

I stare at her. Her voice was whispering into my mind, hissing its words for my ears only.

"What? What do you mean? What, um, what do you want me to do?" I accidentally think out loud.

The mist started to swirl even thicker, grouping up in between the Oracle and I, forming a picture.

"Wait - no, sorry, that wasn't - I mean, I didn't mean to like, ask you for my destiny, or-"

I'm cut off by a voice in my head.

_**The sun, the flames, the wise alone**_

I catch my breath. Immediately, I stare at the formation of gas in front of me; it displays an image of people in a cage. Wait, no, it isn't a cage. They're in a - what is that? A sphere?

"I-"

_**Shall seek the ones once made of bone**_

I decide not to talk while she is. It just doesn't feel right.

_**To give up on what you hold dear**_

As I pay more attention to the people in the sphere(?) I start to realise more details. They look... dead. Faceless. Yet still alive, somehow. Like they were animated mannequins.

_**And left with but your deepest fear**_

They're whispering this riddle into my ear. All at once, they cry the words out; sinister images hissing sinister prophecies.

_**Though try to get back what was lost**_

And then, the group starts to go up in green, misty flames. They burn as they writhe and wail in agony, the flames whisking their lives away but not yet turning them to ashes. Then, fingers begin to clasp around their spherical prison, finally sending each and every person to their deaths. In a final whisper, a voice calls the last line of the prophecy:

_**An equal value is the cost**_

Just as quickly as I noticed them, the figures begin to dissolve away. I realise that I was holding my breath, and quickly let go as I take in the Oracle's words.

"Wait, what? Deepest fear? An equal value? What? What do you mean? You can't just say something like that and expect someone to understand!"

Seemingly as if to ignore me, the Oracle slumps back into her chair. The smoke is all gone, the silence has returned and the Oracle has finished its audience with me.

"What the hell?" I sigh to myself.

Snapping back into the moment, I turn and yank the attic door open, only to find Percy standing there, staring straight back at me.

In unison, we voice our urgent thoughts of the arising matter:

"We need to get Chiron."

* * *

><p>an: hey there. sorry for not updating for a bit; i dont really have a schedule, which leads to updates being uneven and sometimes unplanned. the plot is _finally_ moving along, yay! something that i prompised a couple of chapters ago but didnt pull through till now. tbh this seems like its gonna be a really long fic, so i guess im in for a really long ride. also reminding you to please review and f/f, because i really need those to keep me motivated. also, if you could add just a little something about what you liked or some constructive critism would be fantastic. please and thank you :) have a great day~


	6. Sorry!

A/N: in advance, i apologise if you were expecting this to be a new chapter. im really sorry for not updating in a while, but i was in a bit of a car accident towards the end of last year that sorta took my mind off writing for about a few weeks, nothing too serious but right after i recovered from it it was christmas and new years and all sorts of family matters had been planned and it was only until like last week that i had some free time. i have started writing again and i hope you didnt mind the wait, thanks for sticking around with this stupid and unexpected hiatus and a new chapter will be out soon!


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